Superman's Dead
by destinedtoburnthings
Summary: They don't know her, not the real her; she's scared of being broken again. She smiles just to survive another day. They don't understand him, not really; he won't admit he feels alone. He'll take her breath away. "You're the only chance I'll take" OCstory
1. Second Chances

**A/N: **Original characters may be a bit OOC because this is my first X-Men fanfic and to be honest…I don't know exactly what I'm doing. Helpful criticismwould be _greatly _appreciated and loved. Thanks!

**Disclaimer: **All X-Men characters belong to their respective owner/s except Jaimi and a few other characters, which is of my own creation as is the plot.

* * *

**Chapter One  
"Second Chances"**

_There's a place I dream about  
where the sun never goes out  
and the sky is deep and blue  
won't you take me there with you?_

She hid in an alleyway, crouching in the shadows, a small smile on her face. Using a shallow puddle beside her, Jaimi had tried to at least look decent; combing her brown, flyaway hair with her fingers and tying it up with her thick, thread bracelet.

Now she sat, squatting, at the mouth of the alleyway; sharp eyes passing over every one that walked past though they were completely oblivious to her. She has been waiting for a wealthy-looking man or woman to stop at the bakery stall across the road. Each and every business owner wants one thing; money, and what better way to get it but flatter the first rich person that walks through your door? And whilst the attention of the manager is divided to fulfill the wish of that prosperous person Jaimi can swoop in and strike; slipping away unseen.

Jaimi bit her lip, catching sight of a professional looking man and willing him to walk towards probably the cleanest looking bread stall in the whole street. Her eyes flickered over his grey, brushed hair, tie, briefcase and business suit. She the glanced at the briefcase as the man starts walking down the street; gradually inching closer to the stall and can't help but wonder whether she should just grab that and run. She could always find a way to open it.

But did she even know if there was anything good in there? Food? Money? Anything she could sell at least at a high price? No. So she doesn't slip across the road and wrap her skinny fingers around the briefcase and instead watched, pleased, as the man made his way towards the bakery stand. She smirked; she's going to have something to eat today.

"Eyes on the prize, Jaimi," She muttered to herself softly, "Eyes on the prize"

She followed him silently, earning looks from most people she passed. She felt somewhat self-conscious as she walked more than aware of the state she was in. She hadn't had a shower since she'd visited that small, surreptitious lake almost three days ago and even that was a quick one. She was sure she smelled; both from body odor and the alleyways she spent so much time in. The dirty, stolen clothes she had on were stained and dirty; but they served their purpose. They kept her warm most nights _and_ concealed the array of knives fastened to her hip.

She stopped a few steps away from the bakery stall, pausing to look up and down the street. To her left was a tall, well built man looking through some CDs so she knew she couldn't go that way. And to the right was the distant likeness of a police officer; the sight of him didn't scare her; she could dodge him easily, she just didn't want to be seen. It meant she wouldn't be able to come here for a while. She scanned the street again, wasting less than a second, and spotted another alleyway diagonal from her; she hadn't used that particular lane before, but at the moment it was her only choice.

Aware of her surroundings, she ducked closer to the stall; watching, as expected, the manager practically ignore the rest of the buyers to please the business man; who seemed to be pursing his lips in self-righteousness. Jaimi smiled slightly again, edging closer to the stall, a look of nonchalant passing her face. The business man noticed her but just turned away and said not a word, – why would he? She was just a six-teen year old, dirty runaway in his eyes; nothing more, nothing less. She scowled lightly at the thought. What happened to 'care for the less fortunate' in the world?

She stared at him for several moments; perhaps giving him a heads-up to turn around. She glowered at him and his iron-pressed suit, leather briefcase and neat hair-cut._ Asshole_. While continuing her thoughts the man stared back at her, his face broadening in a cruel smile. She stared back and noticed a yellow flash in his eyes, as his irises twist and spin in an eruption of a golden hue.

She wouldn't run, wouldn't risk the chance to fill her empty stomach, and so instead rashly grabbed a big bag of bread by the plastic neck and slipped away, feeling the man's discolored eyes on her.

She skidded into the street and the shouts of the angry manager fell on deaf ears as they went unnoticed into the hustle and bustle of the street. She dipped into a mass of people, and tried her best to become just another face in the crowd.

* * *

"Hey, Roach!" She yelled and caught the attention of a blonde, eighteen year old young man in front of her.

'It's _Justin_'.

She smirked and noticed the look of irritation on his face as he paused to let her catch up. She fell into step beside him and she held up half a bag of bread; the other half she had eaten beforehand.

"Now I owe you nuthin'" She snapped lightly.

He grunted in response and reached into the clear bag for some food. She almost felt sorry, the tall guy was horrible at stealing; couldn't steal shit if his life depended on it. And it did. But then she remembered she hated him. On the streets there wasn't much time for pity.

"You goin' tonight?" He questioned whilst eating. She knew he wasn't really curious. Roach, or Justin as his real name was, didn't give a flying fuck about anyone else but himself. The only reason she guessed he was talking to her was 'cause they were the only people in the lane and they both loathed awkward silences.

"Where?"

He looked almost shocked, as if like it was a sin not to be aware. "You don't know?"

She rolled her eyes, exasperated, "Does it look like I fucking know?"

He wanted to smirk at her, savoring the one moment he had on top of her but instead his voice turned soft, deadly. "Some anti-mutant organization's holdin' a meeting. Everyone's invited. Well everyone _that's not a mutant_ is invited"

She stiffened at the word 'mutant' and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. If only he knew she was one as well. Would he still be in this alleyway, talking to her? Would anyone in the streets talk to her? Would the backstreet stalls still buy the things she stole just to sell them again?

Probably not.

She had seen what Roach and the others did to other homeless mutants; ones that were sometimes worse off than them, ones that didn't know how to survive in the streets after somewhat pampered lives. Jaimi had usually intervened; angry and disgusted, voice raised high enough to alert an official. They knew when not to take any chances.

"Anti-mutant organization, huh?" She asked a little stiffly. Roach knew she didn't like him and the other street rats ganging up on the mutants but he didn't know why, so he didn't care. Maybe she was just a sucker for freaks? Besides, it was his turn to gloat, to show he had a side, a gathering. He stood for a purpose that was welcomed by many.

"Not really an organization. More like a group that really hates freaks. I don't know all 'bout it but 'pparently they're gonna arrange some sorta attack"

She balled her hands into fists and glares at the floor. Roach and the others…they didn't mean a lot to her. They were more of an accessory than anything; an accessory that she could live fine without. The only time she really needed them was when she had been spotted and couldn't stray out of the back streets in case the police found her. Even then she was fine; she could always just steal a hoodie from a backyard and sneak into the stores. Besides, she hated being in someone's debt; having been tied down by it. So if Roach and the others didn't mean a lot to her then why did it hurt so much that they wanted mutants, her kind, dead?

"Are you fucking insane? And risk the police coming?"

He glared, maybe a bit taken aback with the harshness in her voice. He turned to face her, the bread bag lying discarded in a gutter after he had finished with it. "Police? Yeah right; they'll probably be there - _on our side_! Face it, Jaimi; no-one gives a shit about those _freaks_ but you!"

She flinched, feeling heat start to creep its way down her arm and build up in her palm.

"Don't you call 'em that!" She hissed dangerously low, taking one step forward.

Roach may be a shit thief but he was a lethal fighter and even if she could keep up her own, better than even most men, she knew she would have a bad brawl ahead; even with the knives on her hip. Roach took a step forward as well, so that they were standing almost nose to nose. She could see the muscles on his scrawny neck and the rancid smell of sewerage and alleyway filth cocoons them both.

"Or what, huh? Jesus Christ, Jaimi, don't you get it? They're a pest, they're a fucking parasite! They're dangerous and they _deserve_ to be killed!" He yelled, his voice bouncing down the lane way with a brutal volume and she gritted her teeth, sickened.

"Dangerous? How the fuck was that little boy, last week, dangerous? He couldn't even _walk_ he was so tired! Get your head out of your ass, Justin, and wake the fuck up! It's not always so bloody simple!"

He smirked then, and Jaimi is shocked as he looks straight into her eyes; a look of indifference passing over his face. An insolent grin spread over his face.

"Oh but, Jaimi, it is. They're freaks, we aren't. They don't deserve to live. To breathe the same air we do."

Before Roach knew what was happening Jaimi's balled fist flew out. The muscles on her arm were coiled tight and her fingernails dug into her palm. He fell to the floor, hands clutching his already bloodied face. She let a proud grin twitch the corners of her mouth as she heard Justin moan.

"You fuckin' bitch…" He groans painfully.

With his face to ground Roach didn't notice the fine, light red shield over Jaimi's fist and it disappeared with a wisp of white.

She lent down, her mouth mere centre-meters from his ear and in a soft, alluring whisper she reasoned, "I told you not to call them freaks, _Justin_"

* * *

Jaimi stands in the shadows, her hood pulled up listening slightly to the shouting with an angry scowl on her face. She wasn't sure what she was doing here, but she knew she wasn't going to leave; at least not anytime soon. Over sixty people were here, she knew, she had heard someone talk about how good of a turn-out it was, so she could easily slip into the crowd and disappear. No-one would see her.

Roach was here, she was sure of it. And a lot of other people on the streets she had talked to at one time or another. Even the bakery store manager was here and she had made a notice not to walk or look in his direction. She had passed the entry without problem but she didn't want to bring any attention to herself; well any more than she already had. So she was at the fringe of the drunk and fuming pack of people, concealed in the shadows.

Like she said; she wasn't sure what she was doing here. It was an _anti-mutant meeting_ for Christ's Sake and she _was a mutant. _It's almost asking for certain death.

After an hour, teeth gritted and fists clenched she let out an angry sigh, feeling the rage build up in her chest. A warm sensation was already building in her palms and she glowered at the man on the podium up the front, wanting very much for him to suffer for all the things he and the crowd was planning to do to her kind.

There wasn't a coherent thought in it, simply a rash passing through. But before she knew clearly what was happening she caught sight a glimmer of red around the man's throat. His face suddenly went pale, beads of sweat already appearing on his white forehead. His mouth gaped open like a fish out of water, trying to suck up some air and his shaking hands wrapped around his neck, his microphone fell discarded to the floor and his sentence hung in the silence. The man's eyes widened and he fell to the floor, the sound of his knees hitting the floorboard lost in the sudden shouting and screams of the destructive mob of anti-mutant followers.

"_Mutants!" _Someone in the crowd yelled, his voice swarming into the noise of others, as they realized the same thing. Heart in her mouth and revulsion turning ugly thoughts into her head, Jaimi froze and stared at the man at the front who had resorted to twitching on the floor. A woman and a man where trying to resuscitate him. She tried to slow her breathing. Tried to calm the rising of her stomach and the guilty heat that traveled through her palm.

A heavy, well built man in front of her remained silent, calculating eyes flicking over the crowd; until they looked at her. He started grinning; like a proud parent when their child uttered their first word. Jaimi watched, utterly confused as the man's irises change from dark brown to a honeycomb yellow. She widened her eyes as the man walks forward a few steps; stiff and shocked as the man's skin start to change color to a deep blue, scales overlapping and shuffling.

She opened her mouth to say something but the man looked at her, his hair dyeing itself a carroty shade. "If I was you, I would get out of here. Things are going to get hazardous"

She doesn't reply, dipping into the crowd. Jaimi's feet kick into a steady rhythm as she sprinted, leaving behind the deafening sound of an astonished and panicky mob. The wind tears at her hair and she can feel her ponytail slipping out but she didn't care, and she continued on, almost panicky, as she can hear people following her. She took a blind left, silencing her feet almost instantly at will as ducked behind a lone crate. She knew already without looking that behind her was a dead end.

She stayed like that for ten minutes; long after the men have gone and she swerved through the alleyways until she got home. Or at least where she sleeps. It was a simple little piece of ground covered with a large portion of cardboard; the rest of the cardboard was anchored to the wall – shielding a small amount of belongings she possessed. She was fine with leaving her stuff here, not many people ventured down here and the ones that did, didn't bother with a homeless girls possessions.

She sat down, pulling her jacket closer around her body. Did she really kill that man? What sort of suicidal idiot was she? What sort of a suicidal, _murderer _was she? She grimaced, looking up at the black abyss of night and the little dots of light. Saying the word 'murderer' made her feel dirty…_but she _was _a murderer, a criminal. _Could she be held responsible for things she couldn't control? Things she didn't even want to happen?

She thought back and remembered that blue man with the yellow eyes and orange hair. Who was he? Was he the same man from the bakery store; the rich one? But that guy looked different, not because of the suit, or the briefcase, or even the hair…he looked almost thirty years younger. And why did he want her to go? Why did he warn her? What did she mean to him? He _was _a mutant sure…but why did he stay here whilst she ran? Why was he there in the first place?

She groaned as a headache spurts through her head. So many questions were dizzying, uncontrollable and most of all, unanswerable. So much had changed in the last few hours it was almost driving her insane. She had gone from her daily routine of stealing to attending a meeting for people that wanted to make her kind extinct to then killing a guy and meeting a mutant that then saved her life. She scowled – why did everything bad happen to her?

She pulled her knees to her chest, crossed her arms and placed her head on them. Suddenly her cheek twitches involuntary and she frowned. She reached up along her cheek; feeling a warm liquid there. Staring at her fingers she realized it's blood. She touched her right ear and her stomach drops as she can feel more blood there. When did she get hit? Nothing even touched her! What the _fuck _was going on?

"Are you Jaimi?"

She scrambled up, stunned and dizzy. Eyes wide she took in a man standing off down the alleyway dressing in jeans and his eyes shadowed with dark red glasses, he looked a bit out of placed in the alleyway with clean, fairly tanned skin and neat, dark brown hair.

"Depends on who's askin-?" She cut off as a large banging sound cleared the silent atmosphere. Her eyes trained to a fairly large explosion, the smoke fumes whispering up from the building's horizon. If she stood on her toes she could clearly see the flames licking up the building, the irregular shaped roof twisting with some unseen force. The building where the anti-mutant organization meeting was held.

"Fuck…" she muttered under her breath, captivated with the dance of fire and smoke.

She had forgotten the man in the alleyway until he come up next to her, staring up at the smoldering building like she was, their faces mirrored in shock.

"We've gotta go, people will be here any second" He broke the silence and Jaimi whirled around, kind of surprised he was still there. It takes her a solid moment to realize what he had said and a frown painted itself on her forehead with a small crease.

"What? Who said I'm going with you?" She snaps, stepping back into her 'house'.

He looked exasperated as he looked up and down the alleyway on edge. She took a look at his glasses, mesmerized with the hard red center and light edges. "I don't have time for this, Jaimi; we've got to get out of here"

"How do you know my name?"

He paused, taking a second to explain. "Look, my names Scott Summers, okay? I'm a mutant, a teacher at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters," He noticed the look of confusion on her face and explained, "It's a school for mutants. Now unless you want to be here when _they_ come, you've got to come with me"

She knew who _'they'_ were automatically and narrowed her eyes at the explosion as she realized most of the humans would be coming through these alleyways to escape the fire; ignoring the officials because face it, who wants to be caught trying to organize a meeting to kill mutants? No-one. But...

"Who says they'll be looking for me? No-one even comes down here but street rats and they don't bother me!"

He sighed, outstretched fingers twitching with impatience. "Listen, you weren't quite as inconspicuous as you think at the meeting, I'm pretty sure some people would remember a hooded figure hiding in the shadows. Besides, you're bleeding! You need medical attention! I'm not going to hurt you, honestly, just please come."

He glanced cautiously up and down the alleyway again; looking like he'd rather not be here. Not afraid, she thought, no; he looked torn. Like he'd much rather not do, whatever he had to do should someone turn around the corner.

She's torn; she's got nowhere else to go. He has a point, a very valid one, and maybe she's not as invisible as she thought? She hasn't quite made up her mind when she hears shouting, amplified by the stone walls and echoed by the panting of running.

"She went this way!"

"Down that corridor to the right! I saw her, I did!"

"Why the hell are we even looking for this chick? I still reckon it was that guy with the fucked up arm!"

"Dustin went after _that crowd_! We need to scratch out every possibility!"

"She looked pretty new to the table too, might be able to sell her for a bit, if you know what I mean!"

Scott grabbed her arm and Jaimi didn't resist the pull through the maze of alleyways. They ran as fast as she can allow them, hindering them even further as she glanced behind them after every shuffle and every whisper. Her heart was in her throat, and her mouth dry from every breath.

Before she knows what's going on she's stopped before a sleek black car and Scott opened the passenger door, pulling her in. She clicks her seatbelt in staring out the tinted window with her palms clenched as she felt Scott get into the driver's side of the car.

Her hands are shaking and she despised the fact. Weak. _Weak. _It's with a numb realization that she noticed she had none of her possessions. All were left behind in her makeshift house for the eyes and hands of whoever seemed interested.

She didn't utter a 'thank-you' to Scott, and he didn't expect one. She didn't look at him, or his side of the car and he didn't push it. She didn't trust him, and Scott didn't want her to.

He wanted her on guard, because she needed to be.

* * *

**TBC**

**Lyrics: **Edge of the Ocean by Ivy

**A/N: **Any questions or suggestion don't be afraid to PM me or contact my tumblr (the address is on my profile) I'll try 'n' get back to you as soon as possible. Review! Thanks!

-J


	2. Throw Me A Lifeline

**A/N: **Forgot to mention something in the previous chapter. This story is taking place after X-Men 1 and Logan – when he appears in the story – returns a few weeks earlier than he does in X-Men 2.

**Disclaimer: **All standard disclaimers apply. See first chapter for details and such 'n' such.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

**"Throw Me a Lifeline"**

_My heart beats, standing on the edge  
but my feet have finally left the ledge  
like an acrobat  
there's no turning back_

They sat in silence. Scott stared out the front window, later on he had sometimes glanced over to Jaimi, concerned. He had seen the state of her clothes and her skinny frame. He had even wound down the window to get some fresh air as her smell cocooned the car. Jaimi, feeling painfully humiliated had turned her face to the window, ignoring him.

Right now the small pit of curiousness had grown in her stomach and she bit her lip watching outside as the city backdrop morphed slowly into the lush green countryside. Where were they going? Where is this school? How long until they get there? She voiced her questions numbly and Scott glanced at the radio clock of little, slightly blurred numbers; 10:47pm

He sighed, seeming tired, weary; much like he wanted to be home right now, "Urh, Westchester, New York. We should be there in about…half an hour"

She nodded wanting to ask more but deciding against it. Half an hour; so where is she? She could barely remember the names of the streets in which she lived in, let alone the area. It's all a blur and a distant part of her realized that she _knows _the area. She just wants to forget it.

Biting her lip she stared out the fairly tinted, black window. She then turned her attention to the inside of the car, running her eyes over the dark, clean dashboard. She identified the quiet purring as the car's engine and nearly smiles. She had always loved cars; she used to help her little brother, Samuel, with naming the parts of the car and remembered his first word was a slightly babyish, mumbled and distorted 'aksellerayta'. That was until she was forbidden to talk to him, or see him, _hell_ she was forbidden to _think_ of him by her _father._

Her heart pumped painfully, and a lump rose in her throat, shaking her head she snarled at herself, trying to get back on to the same train of thought she was on before. The car looked expensive, really expensive and she is about to comment on it when a thought hit her.

"How'd you know where I was?" She asked, voice clipped with interest and Scott raised his eyebrow, as if surprised she is asking him that question. She doubts he was just walking around and happened to see her; a man like him didn't look like his hobby is walking down dusty lanes. She watches as he tapped the wheel for a moment, and then tilted his head slightly.

"Professor Charles Xavier, the owner of the school," He continued as she nods, looking straight ahead at the darkening road, "is telepathic. He's got this…enhancer that allows him to find mutants in need of help"

Jaimi couldn't help but wonder who this Charles guy is. By the sounds of him he was a decent guy, which was kind of unsettling.

"So…what does the school want with me?"

She looked up to him and sees he's frowning, biting the inside of his cheek. He sighed slightly and then rearranged his red tinted glasses.

"I'm taking you to the school because that's where you belong," He paused, shaking his head slightly and his hands relaxed, "Charles' wants to offer you a place in the school"

Her heart almost swelled in anticipation. In hope. At the thought of maybe...just maybe she'll amount to something. _Anything. _

And then the fantasy was killed as reality striked her on the head; she frowned, "But I can't afford it. I don't have any money or a place to live or clothes or-"

"In case you hadn't noticed, it's not an ordinary school. You don't need to pay for anything there; the whole place is privately funded. Charles knows you don't have anything; most students that come _don't_. You're not the only person to come to the school from the streets"

She raised an eyebrow, biting her tongue to keep back a sarcastic remark she knew she is about to blurt out and instead loosened up her neck and allowed her head to sway back into the black seat. She could feel sweat building up on the back of her neck and shivered as it ran down her spine.

"So what's the catch?"

"…catch?" Scott glanced at her smiling slightly, "You have to be the most cynical child I have ever met. There is no catch. No strings attached. Nothing. Of course you have to follow the rules, and go to school which I guess is a disaster in itself, but essentially, nothing"

"Almost sounds too good to be true" She muttered quietly, a poker face already in place though underneath it was a whole different matter. She's getting offered a place at a school? She's going to have a place to sleep that wasn't constantly wet from the rain? She's going to be able to eat without stealing? And if what Scott said is true…she wouldn't have to pay for anything? _And_ she would be able to be around her own kind, she wouldn't have to lie or hide or _anything?_

And then she noticed the downside. She had never been good at following _orders_; and following _others_ also wasn't her strong point. She wasn't good with talking to others, the conversation she is having with Scott would have to be the longest she'd had in a long time. _And_…trusting others. Opening up to others. About her past. About her family. About _her. _Why did she have to be so dysfunctional? Why couldn't she be a people person?

They retreated into a calming silence and she shifted on her chair as her back muscles start to cramp up and she looked at the time again. 11:02pm. Her eyelids were already starting to droop heavily but they shot dizzyingly open when she realized she has about ten minutes until they got to the school. Her stomach dropped.

"Hows your ear?" Scott's calm voice cuts through the suffocating silence and she jumps at the sound.

"What?" She is about to question when she remembered her ear and the dark red liquid and her hand flew up to feel her cheek, "oh…yeah"

"Did you hit your head or something?" He asked concerned and Jaimi can't help but feel a twinge of surprise. It had been a while since someone actually cared whether or not she was scared or hurt or cold or anything. She tilted her head sideways slightly thinking her world has changed _a lot_ since this morning.

"No," She replied, confusing herself as she remembers running through the alley; she didn't…did she? "I don't think so…"

"Do you usually bleed from your ear?" He questioned, one eyebrow risen and he took a fleeting look at her.

"Yeah, it's a hobby of mine" She answered with a roll of her eyes, feeling a bit self conscious. She took a deep breath, and noticed as Scott glanced at the clock.

"Charles might be able to explain it. We'll be there in about five minutes, you can hold on 'till then, right?"

He sounded like he's expecting her to piss herself and Jaimi rolled her eyes at his tone, "Its _fine_. It's not even bleeding; besides, I've had worst"

"Yeah" He said and trailed off and for the rest of the ride they were both silent, caught up in their own thoughts.

Suddenly Scott pulled up in front of some ebony gates and Jaimi couldn't help when her mouth sculptured into a tiny, perfect 'o'. There was a large, brick fence showered with a million trees and falling leaves and vines creeping up the side, a gold plaque with elegant, italic '_Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters'_ engraved on it. As Scott moved the car past the gateway she caught sight of flat, neatly trimmed, bright green grass and basketball courts and clear little ponds that glimmered in the shadowed moonlight.

"Fuck me dead" She muttered in awe and Scott raises his eyebrows at her, a smile tugging the corners of his lips at her language.

"Come on, follow me"

She hopped out of the car and found herself walking beside Scott. She can't help but look at the corridors in awe as they pass room after room and door after door; glancing at the lone vases and tables in between the openings. Jaimi looked up at the roof and she saw the silvered moonlight shifting in from the windows dappled in the leaves. She could see colorful nameplates and plaques on doors, three at a time, and guessed they belonged to the numerous students sleeping inside.

She and Scott didn't see anyone else wandering the lone hallways and she assumed it's because it is about 11:20 at night and they would probably get screamed at by some Professor for staying out. Jaimi couldn't help but smile at the thought.

She stopped abruptly as Scott paused to open a dark, auburn, wooden door. She paused, uncertain, and then slipped in soundlessly; a trait she had picked up off the streets and the first thing she noticed is a well-aged, bald man, his slightly wrinkled face smoothed into a comforting smile. Beside him is a young, beautiful woman with mocha colored skin and brown eyes and plump lips.

The man smiled at her, his eyes warm and steady, nodding towards a seat. Jaimi took it gratefully; glad to get off of her suddenly shaking legs and stared at the new strangers under the glow of a cozy light. Scott, she noticed, doesn't sit down, instead leaning against the bench pushed up against a wall.

"Hello Jaimi, my name is Professor Charles Xavier," The man greeted kindly, and Jaimi doesn't even bother questioning how he knows her name. He is telepathic, it's pretty much expectant for him to know all about her, "This is Ororo Munroe, or Storm as she is more frequently called, and I see you've already met Scott"

She quickly glances at Scott, before nodding silently, lips glued together. Storm smiles at Jaimi sincerely, the corners of her eyes crinkling and dark lashes curled.

"If you don't mind, we would like to ask a few questions" Charles continued gently, and Jaimi nodded, muttering a quick 'sure'. She was expecting this; no way would they let someone in without first asking them a couple of stuff. Thing is; did she even want to be allowed in?

"You know you don't have to answer anything you don't want to?" Storm pipes up and Jaimi bites her lip, nodding a silent thanks.

"How old are you, Jaimi?"

"16"

"How long have you been on the streets?"

"Three years; after my parents threw me out" She replied theatrically and it's true. She has been on the streets for three years just the way she ended up on the streets is a lie. A stretched, fabricated lie, a lie that is a whole lot better than the truth but a lie nonetheless.

It continued on like that. They didn't ask personal questions; the ones she didn't want to answer. They were nice and as far as she could tell, Charles didn't swoop into her head and read her mind; and for the privacy she is thankful. It was more of a get-to-know-you conversation than a usual interview.

"What powers do you possess?"

Keep one a secret, Jaimi. Technically it's none of their business and she isn't even sure is she can trust them. They don't need to know.

Do they?

"I think you call them force fields"

"Scott tells me you were injured somewhat" Charles asked and she can only guess that what he meant by 'tells me' is actually him reading Scott's mind.

"Yeah," She answered, brushing the dried up blood on her cheekbone lightly with her fingertips, "but I didn't get hit. I know that. My ear just started bleedin'"

"And you say that this happens every time you use your power?" Charles continued, and Jaimi can tell by the undertone in his voice, if nothing else, he's confused. Or concerned. Whichever didn't matter, Jaimi decided and shakes her head.

"No, not all the time. I hit Roach this morning and I was fine"

Charles raised his eyebrow in silent amusement which is weird; Jaimi thought of him as a non-violence type of person. Storm is the one who responds first though, "Roach?" She questioned.

"Yeah, Justin, Roach, Roach, Justin; same thing. He was being an ass so I thumped him one" She replies distractedly. Where is Roach now? Did he survive the explosion? Did she care?

She had a feeling they were about to ask her when she used her power that afternoon, right before she bled, so she changed the subject fast. She didn't really want to be reminded she's a murderer. She also hopes Charles wasn't reading her mind.

"Do you know who made the explosion? Who blew up the old factory?"

"No," Storm replied slowly and glances as Scott who she sees nodding out of the corner of her eye. Did this have anything to do with the yellow eyed mutant she saw there? "You were there, weren't you? Did you see anyone?"

She bit the inside of her cheek. She guessed Charles would find out sooner or later about her secret but she wants it kept a secret for at least as long as possible, "Apart from a whole bunch of half-assed homosapiens, just a guy with weird yellow eyes"

Charles sighed wearily, ignoring her swearing and looked between Storm and Scott, "Mystique?"

"What's a Mystique?_"_ She couldn't help asking. A person? She didn't even know why she wants to know. So she can thank it? So she can hit it? Or just so she knows who or what blew up all of her street 'friends'?

"Maybe another time, Jaimi," Charles finished the discussion, and Jaimi doesn't bother arguing; she knows she won't get far even if she did, "Now, I can't answer the questions to the bleeding, although, I do believe it has something to do with overdoing your power"

He smiled warmly, and Jaimi nodded. Charles then put his elbows on the wooden desk and Jaimi just noticed sharply that he's in a wheelchair.

"I would like to offer you a place in my school. I know you've already heard about what we offer from Scott, but I would like to add that the aim of my school is to help all young mutants learn more about their gifts; away from people that disregard mutants in the modern society. So here, if you would let us, we would like to help you control your force fields and expand your learning on them. Maybe even answer your continuing injuries?"

She opened her mouth to add something, but Charles held up his hand, "Before you answer; maybe you'd like a tour of the school? It's a bit dark at the moment so how about we find you a room, you can have a shower and tomorrow Storm can show you around?"

She felt an insult at the words 'have a shower' and stiffens, but then she sees Charles' kind eyes, and polite smile and she realized he's just stating the truth. Her eyes widened slightly as she heard his words again. She could sleep the night whether or not she is staying? Sleep in an actual bed?

She choked noticing that she's never good at expressing her feelings, "Urh, thanks"

"No problem. Storm would you please show Jaimi to her room?"

* * *

She stepped out of the shower, water running down her bare back and she tugged her towel tighter around her thin body. It's weird seeing her skin so white, so clean. When she had first stepped into the shower she had watched, disgusted, as the water immediately turned dark brown and tiny little flecks of dirt floated. She had massaged her head and used her nails to scrape off dried blood and mud. So at least now, she is noticeably cleaner, and she didn't smell like garbage thanks to some soap and shampoo.

Noticing that her clothes had gone she frowned; ignoring her shivering. Storm or whoever had been in here had replaced her old, worn out clothes with a gray sweatpants and a white wife beater. It wasn't the clothes that disturbed her. No; it was the fact that someone had been in here whilst she was showering. And worst, she didn't even notice.

She had always had good senses; eyesight, sense of smell, hearing. Heightened to living on the streets; she would have had to be aware of her surroundings. Not only that but she had always, subconsciously, noted the little details of people. How when she had shaken Charles' hand there was no callosities, it was smooth and clean; he wasn't a working man. How the awards behind him suggests he wasn't a violent person, a diplomat. How the small hand drawn pictures on his desk show that at least some young children look up to him. How the student assignments on his desk shows that he is a history teacher, as well as some other classes.

"Jaimi," She sighed to herself, "you _need_ to get a hobby"

About to grab the clothes and get dressed, she caught sight of herself. She took a few steps back and stared at the reflected image on a mirror.

She could barely recognize herself. Sharp cheekbones framed with dark, russet brown hair ending in the middle of her back, frizzy and jagged with numerous split ends. Arched green-blue eyes, naturally thin eyebrows and a straight nose; her entire face was pale and thin. It wasn't her just physical appearance that had caught her eye; it's what was hiding in her eyes. Haunted eyes billowing in an emotion she knew all too well: hopelessness. She felt hopeless; and tired, and scared, and angry and most of all; she felt pain. An empty abyss of pain that's eating her up from the inside out.

She dropped the towel she was hugging to her chest and numbly ran her eyes over her body. Thin. Sunken. Bones poking out like needles under a piece of cloth. Purple bruises shaded her body and she cradled her stomach, or at least what was left of it. It was flat, hollowed. She didn't have a body that made people look at her, she didn't think herself so materialistic to care. But...she did care slightly, knowing she was no where near as pretty as anyone her age. If anything, she was ugly. Brutal, both in appearance and experience.

She watched herself bite her slim lips and run her fingers over her sunken cheek. A slender white scar ran across her left cheek like a highlighted line.

Jaimi pursed her lips staring at the scar; she didn't even bother looking down at her right arm to look at the other scar, she can already see the beginnings of it. It wasn't an accident, you can tell just by looking at it. She tore her eyes away from the right side of her neck and hurriedly got dressed, walking out of the bathroom; refusing to remind herself of her wounds.

She had already seen the room when Storm had first showed her so she didn't bother looking over the mahogany walls and wooden floorboards. She slipped into bed, pulling the crisp, cool sheets around her thin body and pulled her knees up to her chest like a little child. She closed her eyes, and slept.

* * *

"These are the basketball courts," Storm smiled ",and I think that's pretty much it"

Jaimi stayed quiet. Lips pursed in a thin line that showed neither contempt or disgust. Hiding deep underneath though, was the childish thrill that came with anything she was introduced to and run up her body with enthusiasm.

"Do you like the place?" Storm asked lightly, breaking the silence as they trekked back to the main hall.

"Does it matter if I do or not? I hardly have any where else to go"

Storm didn't reply to that, it wasn't entirely too. She could slip easily back into the streets but...it was hardly the same. "Perhaps, but it'd be nice to know you enjoy staying here"

Storm smiles at her and Jaimi stared at the floor, following the woman through the thickening maze of white and yellow flowers that stung her nose.

"So have you made up your mind?"

"About staying?" Jaimi watched, pausing slightly, as Storm nodded, "Yeah. I think I will, I mean, I can't go back to my suburb, I've lost all my stuff and it would take to much time to learn the tricks of a new area."

Storm glanced sideways at the young teenager beside her and tugs her long, white hair behind her ear. Jaimi hadn't really broken her poker face since she had been here, a rare smile and biting of the lip had broken through at times but nothing that really added to her personality and Storm had noticed. She's a mystery that didn't happen to be quite so silent, but forever guarded.

Jaimi stepped into a recreation-like room with a small kitchen and an island like bench and she suddenly felt slightly lost. It's a Saturday so all the students were out of their classes and going out and what not.

"I've got to be somewhere soon… so how about I leave you alone to explore? Maybe you could even meet some other students your age? The cafeteria at the moment should be serving lunch" Storm quips. It's harsh, and she knows, but Storm wonders whether or not throwing the girl into the deep end will end up being some personality.

Jaimi bit the inside of her cheek and was about to mutter a quick, soft, embarrassing 'Don't leave me _alone_!' but catches herself and instead nodded her head, agreeing. No way does she want to look weak in front of some stranger.

She bit the bait.

"Well, I hope you decide to stay, I would love to have you in my classes," Storm smiled encouraging, "maybe I'll see you later?"

"Yeah," Jaimi breathed, looking over the many students in the room, ", maybe"

She shifted from one to foot to the other as she watched Storm walk off, fighting off a smile as she sees the teacher yell at some godforsaken child that had broken some unknown rule. She tried to ignore the stares she knew she is receiving. She knew she didn't smell; she had another shower this morning. She knew her clothes weren't dirty; Storm had washed them and given her a standard school tracksuit in the mean time. Yesterday she would have received looks because of how she smelled and looked. Now she is receiving them based on why she is here and the fact that she was new. If she got any closer they probably stare because of her habits, her thoughts, her feelings.

Don't get any closer then, Jaimi mused, _don't get close_.

She glanced at the clock on a faraway wall; 1:04pm. Lunchtime. Cafeteria. Food. _Eat_.

She tucked her long hair behind her ear and slipped into the crowd, finding the cafeteria in relative ease. Jaimi stopped at the entrance to the dining hall and shifted on her feet again. An unexpected , overwhelming tide tide of emotions hit her before she had a chance to stop it and she bit her lip.

Her eyes swept over the crowds of noisy, chattering students and few Professors. On the streets people avoided her; they left her alone. Others _she_ avoided, most _she _ignored and the rest she only talked to out of boredom; it wasn't anything deep. But everyone was someone she couldn't trust; an unlikely thief in disguise. That's the difference between here and there; there she was a loner by choice, not trusting anyone, here these people are supposed to be her friends; she's _expected _to be nice.

"Well to hell with that" She snapped quietly to herself. She isn't going to change just because her scenery did.

She noticed a food line and ambled silently and gracefully over there, grabbing a dark red tray, her knuckles turned white as she gripped it hard, standing stiffly in line behind some other teenagers and feeling more than a little left out.

And then the smell of food hit her and her stomach rolled over on itself and lets out a pitiful growl Almost. She rolled on the balls of her feet impatiently and eyed the steam rolling off of the trays and trays of hot food.

Before she knows what she's doing she's grabbed a plate of mouthwatering nutrients and found herself a lone white table where she can brood by herself. Sinking herself into the seat she automatically picked up the silver tableware to her side and dug in slowly, knowing from experience that forcing down too much food all at once will end up bad. She ends up savoring each bite slowly and ignoring the people and echoing mass of noise around her.

Slowly her train of thought went straight back to her newly found acquaintances. Storm, or Ororo Munroe's kind, she's welcoming. Jaimi had already seen how stern she is with the other children so she is sure she is a Professor here. Then there is Scott Summers – a married or engaged teacher (according to the ring on his hand) that drove an awesome car and seemed to be kind of lenient with the teacher duties. Let's not forget Charles Xavier, the all-knowing headmaster, who seemed to have an answer for everything. She'd also heard about Jean Grey, Scott's wife or fiancée but she hadn't seen the redhead as yet.

How the hell did they man the whole school on a four-staff teaching plan?

"Hey, my names Ethan and this is Trent and Crypto"

Jaimi looked up to see a redheaded boy with emerald green eyes smiling politely at her, shadowed by two teenagers whom she guesses is Trent and Crypto. She raised an eye, annoyed that she had to stop eating to talk to these people.

She chose to ignore them and reached for her glass to moisten her throat that had suddenly dried up. Ethan let out a small laugh and settled down in a chair opposite her, his companions taking a place beside him. "So what's your name?"

"Why do you care?"

"'Cause I haven't seen you 'round here before. You new?"

She rolled her eyes, stirring her suddenly less interesting food around in her plate. "Maybe. I don't see your fascination though. Kids come and go all the time"

This she wasn't quite sure. She had heard from Storm that people were welcome to leave, whether they did was another matter. On the streets she learn to bluff well, it seemed that trait followed her well.

Trent, a medium built Asian boy with dark eyes and small hints of stubble laughed suddenly, breaking his silence and he looked her in the eye, a smile playing on his lips. "Wow, you really aren't talkative"

"I just don't see the point in talking to you" She muttered darkly, not bothering to lower her voice.

Crypto had been staring at her the whole time and Jaimi shifted her attention to him and his set of shocking white hair with dark streaks of shady purple, his arms were folded accentuating his thick biceps. He tilted his chin upwards slightly, highlighting his prominent jaw line and asked, "What's your thing?"

"_Thing?"_

"Yeah. What can you do?"

"_Do?" _

"What's your _power_?"

She's shocked at the abrupt way he said it, like it is perfectly normal to ask a fellow mutant their power, and then she realized it is. Perfectly normal for them anyway. She remembered she's in a school that openly accepts mutants and their powers.

And suddenly she's angry. Livid. How dare they! How dare they ask someone like it's nothing! Like it's normal! Like it's _welcome_! It's not. We are not normal! We are not welcome! This isn't some dumb comic strip!They're not some super ass hero. For fucks sake, don't walk around like it's an everyday thing!

She bunched her fists together, feeling the same heat creeping up her palms and tingling her fingers with electricity. Don't.

_Stop._

She stood up abruptly, banging the tray on the table loudly. She could feel the heat building up, her heart pumping, pounding. She turned on her heel, digging her nails into her palm so hard to draw blood. The liquid pools into her palm as she slips out of the cafeteria before Ethan had a chance to open his mouth.

_Fuck._

* * *

It's an hour later. She wasn't exactly sure how she's going to spend the time. Should she go outside? She wouldn't mind playing basketball...But no. She didn't. She stayed in her 4 walled room and stared up at the roof. Just thinking.

She's not the best with people. She knew that. She's not the best with orders. She knew that too. She's not good with trusting people, opening up, or just generally being in the same room as people. She thought it's because, deprived of normalcy and human company, she didn't exactly know how to act. How to read what people where thinking, what the reasons were behind words that were spoken.

Funny, how the one thing she prided herself on ended up being her downfall.

Still, she's come up with a decision. She knocked on the door, more than aware of the students behind her in one of the living rooms. Talking. Laughing.

She hated it. She just knows she's going to end up hating them.

"Come in" A voice rung from inside the room and Jaimi pushed lightly, walking in.

"Ah, hello Jaimi" Charles smiled; looking up from his notes; could he hear what she was thinking? What she thought? Jaimi took a seat opposite him warily.

She blinks, "Hi"

"I assume you've come to a decision about your enrollment?"

_Enrollment? _He was acting like this was normal. Like she wasn't a freak going into hiding with a colony of mutants.

She stared at the laces on her black shoes, nonchalantly. "Maybe, depends if you accept my conditions"

"And that depends on what they are"

_Freedom - ability to act freely: a state in which somebody is able to act and live as he or she chooses, without being subject to any undue restraints or restrictions. _Yeah, that's what she wanted, for once, to be able to walk around and do what she wanted without some inappropriate limitation.

For _once_.

"I can leave whenever I want, right?"

"As any other student can also, yes"

"And I don't have to tell you about my past if I don't want to?"

Charles let go of the papers in his hand and looked her in the eye, "I don't agree with it; talking about your past is the best way to move on and trust is the foundation if we're to understand your powers completely but yes; privacy is one thing we offer _all _of our students"

Jaimi nodded, "I get that, but sometimes it's just _easier _to not talk about things. _Easier_ to forget"

"Ignoring the problem won't make it go away; with time it'll just get worse"

"Somehow, I doubt that," She looked up at him, the iron lock on her emotions trembling under pressure and she changed the subject, "I want freedom. I want to be able to lock myself up in my room if I want. I want to be able to leave if I want. I don't care for your curfews to be honest. I just want freedom."

Charles sighed, "Believe it or not, even with a curfew some students are still allowed to roam. Those that cannot sleep, or choose not to. Those that prefer the dark to the light. I'm sure we can arrange something. Though I should advise, this still is a school. As much freedom as we give you, we are still allowed to take it back. This school, and I, more or less become your parent guardian"

Jaimi didn't respond. Charles didn't need her words to know that she was troubled. "Tomorrow we can assess the length of your power at it's present time. You should be able to start school Monday, Wednesday at the latest. That will give you time to collect the things required."

Jaimi blanched. School. Work. Of course. How could she forget?

Charles grinned, "I'm sure you'll enjoy school"

"I'd have a better chance if I wasn't so behind"

"I could always get someone to tutor you if you believe it'll be a problem"

She frowned, "And who would that be?"

"Probably Jean or Scott although I could always get one of your peers if you'd rather that?" At that Jaimi raised and eyebrow in mock disbelief.

He smiled kindly, understanding. "Jean or Scott it is. They'll most likely take turns teaching you different subjects, depending on how much you need help on. How about tomorrow we can see where you are at academically, after your physical test?"

She nodded and a few minutes later she is at the door after excusing herself but once there she paused; back to Charles. She tapped her fingers in rhythm on the door once before turning around.

_What are you doing?_ Why are you asking this? _You know you don't really want the answer._

_No. But I _need _it. _

"How much _exactly _do you know?" She asked.

He didn't need to ask to know what she is talking about, it's clear on her pale face what exactly she is asking and for a moment, Jaimi's glad she's got hold of the door because it feels like her legs are about to give out. Her stomach isn't settling and her other hand is shaking from it's position at her side.

Charles sighed wearily. "I won't lie to you; when I was using Cerebro to pinpoint your location I had to read your mind to note what kind of danger you were in so yes, I saw a glimpse of your past"

She nearly choked. _Fuck. _

"But believe me, Jaimi, I won't tell anyone and as I agreed, you don't_ have _to tell me about it. But I would very much like it if you had a session with me next week; just for a talk"

"Like a therapy session?" She bit back.

"Think of it more like a friendly chat"

"So…like a therapy session?"

He sighed. "If you must call it that – but there's no pressure, like I said, you don't have to talk about it – we can end up talking about something entirely different"

"So I can talk about cereal brands and you won't mind?"

"I've always had a soft spot for Count Chocula" He smiled.

"What's the point in turning up then? I don't think spending an hour talking about cereal brands is going to help anyone"

"Because if you do, I'll give you full access to the Danger Room". He can read her already. Her thoughts, actions, mannerism. He didn't even have to use telepathy.

There's a heavy pause.

"What the _fuck_ is a Danger Room?"

"Jaimi," He said sternly in response to her swearing, ", you'll find out tomorrow when test the extent of your powers"

She wanted to shrug, to appear nonchalant but all she managed to do was turning around and opening the door a faction. She bit her lip, pausing once again and ignoring the students still outside.

"Thanks Professor"

* * *

**TBC**

**Lyrics: **I Am Letting Go by Francesca Battistelli

**A/N: **Jaimi's got two powers but they kinda contradict each other but at the same time…they don't. There are two or more hints given in this chapter so you know, go treasure hunting :P Oh and sorry if this chapter is too boring or long or anything but I don't want a story that takes a long eight chapters or something to get the main character to school and such 'n' such. So yeah, sorry : ) Review! Thanks!

-J


	3. AN

**I only just refound this account and I've now edited both chapters for "Superman's Dead" and have started the third. **

Sorry for everyone who has been waiting for a chapter to be up, I'm really sorry. To be honest I simply just forget I had this account and over a course of time, forget I had the story going. That's going to change now though! Will be rewriting, updating and editing from now on :)

I've gone through chapter 1 and 2, edited, rewritten. I haven't changed the plot at all, but it's worth a reread just in case.

I'm not the most faithful updater so don't rely on me too much, but I do try to get them in at least every two months, if not monthly. The best way to contact me would probably be through my tumblr account, just send me a message (anon or not) and I'll reply. My tumblr is on my profile, you can find it there!

_Sorry again! -J_

_xx_


End file.
